


Black Out

by reclusiveq



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclusiveq/pseuds/reclusiveq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky deals with the trauma of the lab and tries to find where he belongs in Steve's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the space of time between Bucky being rescued from the lab and before he was on the train.

Bucky closed the door to his little apartment. Steve was already home, getting to sleep early since he had an early start tomorrow. Bucky was tired as well, but he couldn't sleep. He lay down, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw that tweedy little scientist in his head. He tossed and turned, but sleep continued to elude him.

After a while, he got up and went to the kitchen. He started pulling out every glad he owned, setting them on the counter. Then he pulled out a large bottle of scotch and opened it. Running his eyes blearily, he upended the liquor into the cups. Just as much alcohol ended up on the floor as in the glasses, but Bucky didn't care.

He set the now empty bottle on the counter and reached for the first glass, draining the small amount in a single gulp. His throat burned as the liquid went down. He reached for the next.

A spasm of pain shot through him suddenly, so intense that Bucky lost his balance and hit the counter, knocking all of the glasses to the floor where they shattered.

The glass cut into his feet, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the pain shouting through his body. He fell to his knees, eyes wide, gasping for breath. Crawling out of the kitchen, he whimpered a bit, then curled into a ball once he was clear of the glass. 

He cried a bit, but finally the pain passed. Still, he didn't move. He heard someone knock, but he didn't answer. He lay there, curled up, and whispering to himself. Name. Rank. Serial number. Over and over.

Eventually he calmed. The pain didn't come back. Had he imagined it? He glanced over at the broken glass. No. He hadn't. He closed his eyes again, afraid to move... afraid to do anything.

He wasn't aware of falling asleep, but when he next opened his eyes, he was back in his bed. He sat up quickly. Morning light poured in from the window, promising a good day despite everything. Bucky glared out the window, then looked down at his hands, expecting to see cuts. There was nothing. His frown deepened and he pulled one of his legs around to check his feet. Nothing there either.

Seeing that, he jumped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. If there had been glass on the floor, it wasn't there now. "I can't have been that drunk," he mumbled. Everything was clean. He paused and looked again. In fact, it was too clean. He walked to the cupboard and yanked it open. It was empty. There were no glasses.

Bucky took a deep breath, fighting back a wave of panic. Maybe he was over-reacting. Maybe Steve had come by and cleaned up. It'd be just like that little punk. Bucky would ask him later. Of course that didn't explain the fact that Bucky was uninjured, but he was pretty drunk last night. Maybe he hadn't been hurt as bad as he'd thought.

He took a shower, not looking at himself in the mirror. He didn't need to look to see the dark circles under his eyes or ever so slightly thin cheeks from so many months without a decent meal. He'd lost a lot of weight, more than he cared to admit and it made him feel weak.

Once he wouldn't have been able to leave the house before making sure he was perfect. Now, he just dressed in the least dirty piece of clothing he owned, ran his hands through his hair, and called it done. He needed to eat something, no matter how small, and then he had to meet up with Steve and the others. They'd be heading back out soon and had to plan.

~~~  
Steve watched his old friend with concern. Bucky was thin, thinner than he'd ever known him, and Steve was worried he wasn't eating enough. He had his hands full enough with planning attacks and making sure everyone knew their parts. He was regretting asking Bucky to come with him, but he couldn't tell Bucky to stay now. He was as stubborn as Steve, and would find a way to go, even if Steve tried to force the issue.

So Steve made him second in command. That would allow him to keep his friend close and protect him, while still making him feel useful. Right now, they were having lunch together. Bucky was clearly picking at his food, though he was trying to hide it. 

"You okay," Steve asked finally, unable to contain his concern anymore.

Bucky up at Steve, surprised at the question. "Uh, yeah. Did you come over to my place this morning?" 

That set Steve back. It was not the response he had expected. "No, I was with Stark all morning, planning our new gear. Why, did something happen?"

"No," Bucky said, a little too quickly, shaking his head. He couldn't meet Steve's eyes "Just got the impression someone was in my apartment. Probably just a hangover from last night."

"A hangover..." Steve said doubtfully. "How much did you drink last night?"

Bucky looked back at his food, then looked back at Steve, his characteristic smile on his face, though it looked forced to Steve. "It's your fault, punk. You opened a tab. We all stayed up late." That wasn't entirely true. Bucky had left the bar shortly after Steve. Steve only knew that because he'd been stopped by a couple of kids for an autograph. Bucky hadn't noticed.

Still Steve didn't push the issue. He hoped bucky would open up to him a bit more, but it had to come from him. "Come on, finish your food. We still have to meet with the others."

Bucky finished the rest of his food quickly, obviously glad to get off the subject. Steve hid a frown and tried to act normal for the rest of lunch.

Over the course of the next couple days, steve watched Bucky closely. Every now and then, when he thought no one was watching, his eyes would turn distant and haunted, as if remembering something horrible. Thinking of the lab he'd found him in, Steve wasn't that surprised. worse, though, was the knowledge that he could do nothing to help him. Not really. He could fight bullies in alleys, and Nazis in Germany, and Hydra agents infiltrating New York, but he couldn't fight his best friend's memories.

The next day, Steve pulled Bucky aside. "Here. I had Stark make this especially for you."

Bucky gave him a smile and opened the box Steve had handed him. Inside was a blue leather jacket. Bucky's smile widened, the first genuine smile he'd had in a while. That alone made this gift worthwhile.

Bucky fingered the coat, then looked curiously at Steve. Steve grinned at him. "Put it on," he urged. 

Bucky nodded and slipped it on. "Perfect fit. Gonna be a hit with the dames now. No one will be able to resist me."

This was more like the old Bucky and Steve was relieved. "Yeah, well. They could never resist you anyway."

"You said Stark made it? Didn't know he was a seamstress."

Steve chuckled. "Well, altered it. It's bulletproof and designed to withstand the elements."

"No kidding. Bulletproof? Doesn't feel heavy enough for that."

"Well, stark... He did stuff to it that I don't really understand. But it'll hold up well."

"Thank you," Bucky said, genuinely. It felt like he wanted to say more, but he didn't. Instead, he placed a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezed it. 

Steve started to say something else, but they were interrupted by Peggy coming to go over last minute details. They'd be leaving back to Europe the next day. With an internal sigh, Steve returned the shoulder squeeze, then followed Peggy.

~~~  
Bucky was glad for all the planning. It kept his mind off of other things, but more importantly it kept Steve's mind off Bucky. He'd been paying a little too close attention to Bucky and it made Bucky uneasy. 

He hadn't had an attack since that one night, and he was starting to think that, if he hadn't imagined it, it was probably was just from all the alcohol he'd had. he still couldn't explain why he had no cuts or why the place was clean, but thinking about it gave him a headache, so he ignored it.

He didn't need the pain attack to mess up his sleep anyway. It was messed up enough without the pain. When he did sleep, he had nightmares. He usually only got a few hours of sleep a night, and that time was sporadic. 

He watched Steve walk off with Peggy. He should follow, but he could see that Steve really liked Peggy. Instead, he turned and walked over to the bathroom. It was empty. One of the lights was going out. It flickered, casting eerie shadows in the small room. Bucky locked the door. Paranoia, maybe, but it made him feel marginally safer.

He pushed open the door to one of the stalls, but as the door banged against the side, Bucky was no longer in the bathroom. He was looking down at himself on a metal table, watching a man inject something into him. The pain slammed into him then, and he reeled away from the stall with a small cry, tripping over backwards and cracking his head on the edge of the sink. He blacked out.


	2. Breathing

Pounding... Bucky blinked and shook his head. He was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at himself. Someone was pounding on the door. 

"Bucky!"

It was Steve. Bucky looked at the edge of the sink. There was a bit of blood on the edge and Bucky's hand shot to his head. But there was nothing there. "I'm fine," Bucky called, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He quickly wiped the blood off the sink.

"Bucky, open the door." Steve's voice was commanding and Bucky felt a bit of annoyance. 

"All right, all right." He stepped over to the door and opened it.

Steve stepped in, followed by another of the Howling Commandos. Steve looked around. "We heard you call for help," he said, looking around before bringing his concerned gaze back to Bucky. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Bucky lied. "I was just startled by a rat. I'm pretty sure I didn't actually call for help."

Steve looked skeptical. "Why was the door locked?" 

"Habit," Bucky said. "Really, I'm fine." Bucky stepped around him. "Come on. Don't we have plans to make?" He wanted to get them out of there before Steve noticed the blood that Bucky had missed on the side of the sink.

"Buck. You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Course I would."

"Okay." Steve still looked doubtful. "Cause we're in this together. All the way."

"To the end of the line." Bucky gave Steve his best smile, though he didn't feel it. "Seriously, stop worrying. It's embarassing."

Steve waved to the other man, and he took off, leaving Steve and Bucky alone. "James." Bucky hid a wince. Steve never used his real name unless he was very serious. "I need to know that I can count on you to have my back."

Bucky's smile dropped and he frowned at Steve. "Don't worry, Captain," he stressed the rank. "You can trust me."

Steve looked hurt at the formality. He reached for Bucky, but Bucky shrugged away. "I told you before I was fine. How many times have I saved your ass? And now you don't trust me?"

"I didn't say..."

"You don't have to! You've done nothing but tiptoe around me. Stop treating me like I'm a landmine. I'm not going to blow up in your face, okay?"

"Buck..."

"Don't. You either trust me to do my part or you don't. You trusted me enough before. Nothing's changed."

That wasn't entirely true, but Bucky couldn't admit to that. He met Steve's eyes, determined. He could worry about the blackouts after they got back. 

He could see that Steve still wasn't completely convinced but he let it go. Bucky was grateful for that. Without another word, Bucky turned and walked away. The truth was, these blackouts? They scared him. He wasn't sure what was happening to him. That was the second time this week. He should see a doctor, but if it was serious, then he wouldn't be allowed to go tomorrow and that pained him more than anything else. 

He took a deep breath. At least he wasn't seriously injured. He touched his head where he knew he'd hit it. His hair was damp, but not with blood. At least not anymore. He had a suspicion that when he'd blacked out, he was still conscious, and had probably washed the blood off. Bucky wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Maybe that's why his apartment was clean.

And then there was the healing. Had they done something to him that helped him heal faster when he was in that lab? Was he turning into someone like Steve, or something worse? Why would they make him able to heal so fast? What had they been planning? That was, in part, why he wanted to go. He hoped he could find some answers in one of the Hydra facilities. What had they been planning for him? And if he took out some revenge on Hydra agents on the way, well, just maybe that would help him sleep at night.

~~~  
Steve watched him go, then went to find Peggy. She was still angry, but she would listen. He found her going over some paperwork. "Peggy."

The concern in that single word must have been strong because Peggy actually looked at him. "What is it?"

Steve sat down across from her. "It's Bucky. I think something's wrong with him."

She reached over and took his hand. "Why do you say that?"

"He's been acting a bit erratic lately. It's not like him. He snapped at me, he's been drinking more than he should, he's lying." Steve looked at her hand over his. "I'm worried," he admited.

"You wouldn't be the Steve I know if you weren't," she said with a smile. "And I'm sure he's picking up on that worry. You found him in a Hydra lab, you said?"

Steve nodded slowly.

"He's probably dealing with that," she assured him. "And he's not talking to you because he doesn't want you to worry."

"But I can help. I can..."

"What? Protect him?" Peggy shook her head. "You can't. Just be there for him. One day he'll be able to open up, but not if you act like a mother hen."

Steve looked at her, then nodded. "Thanks."


	3. Hope

They left the next day. Steve kept a close eye on Bucky as they boarded the plane but tried not to hover so much. Bucky seemed to have put the fight out of his mind. He was wearing the jacket Steve had gotten him, and was talking quietly with one of the other men over one of the rifles. It was obvious Bucky was just trying to behave normally. Well, if that was what he wanted, Steve wouldn't argue. He owed his friend that much.

Besides, he couldn't focus only on Bucky right now. Steve had the rest of the Howling Commandoes to worry about as well. Not that they needed much guidance. That was why he had selected them. They were more than competant at their respective jobs. Still, Steve was the one responsible for all of them, not just Bucky, and he had to focus on the task or he would screw this up.

He helped make sure all the supplies were secured. Once they landed, they'd be going pretty much non-stop. They couldn't allow Hydra or the Red Skull a chance to recoup after their strikes. They'd be dropping off close to enemy lines, and only taking what they needed. Too much stuff could slow down their mission. Bucky had a small array of firearms that Steve had tried to convince him to pare down, but Bucky had already demonstrated he could use them all and if that's what it took for Bucky to feel safe, Steve wouldn't argue.

"All right, listen up," Steve said as everyone settled in. "We all know the stakes involved. We're shutting Hydra down, one facility at a time. When we get there, we're not landing. We're going to parachute in. Probably be heavy battle conditions. You all know where the rendevous point is. Whatever happens, I couldn't have better men at my back."

"Hey, Cap," one of the men said. "Don't jinx us."

That was followed by laughter. Steve smiled. "Strap in." He nodded to the air crew and settled in next to Bucky.

"Jeez, Steve. You're going to make me cry," Bucky teased. He had a hand resting on one of the guns he wore at his hip. Steve pointedly did not stare at the obviously reassuring gesture.

"Well, you know me..."

"Yeah, I know you. How's the tights?"

Steve laughed. "Tight. Stark said he was going to give me a bit more room."

"Don't worry. You still look good."

"Better than you."

"Not likely, pal."

The banter relaxed Steve and he was able to let go of most of his worried for the rest of the trip.

~~~  
Bucky fingered the gun at his side. He had four guns and a knife. Two were standard side-arms, one on either hip, and then he had two rifles - one was a sniper rifle, the other one was just in case. Both rifles were in a case attached to his bag. Plenty of ammunition too. He could always steal more in the first facility if he needed to.

The feel of the gun helped him to relax as he slowly strapped himself in. _It's just for take off,_ he thought to himself. _Once we're in the air, I can get out of the restraints._ This was too much like being tied to that table and it was all Bucky could do to not hyperventilate. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing as the plane took off.

He felt something warm press against his hand and he opened his eyes and looked down. Steve had reached over to take his hand. Bucky glanced up at his friend. Steve wasn't looking at him, acting like it was the most natural thing ever. Bucky quickly glanced over at the other commandoes, but they weren't paying attention - pointedly, Bucky realised. The corner of his mouth quirked and he closed his eyes again and squeezed Steve's hand. It helped and the panic went away.

Bucky let go once they were in the air and he was allowed to unstrap himself. He didn't thank Steve for the reassuring gesture, but he felt Steve would know anyway. Bucky rubbed his face, then reached down and grabbed one of the water canteens. There was so much he wanted to say, but didn't know who to or where to begin. Besides, he couldn't afford to let himself be that vulnerable right now. Later, he told himself. After this is over...

It wasn't long before they reached the front lines. Bucky strapped on his bag and his parachute, as did the others. The plane shook with turbulance and someone opening fire, trying to shoot them down. His heart began to race as the back of the plane opened. He wasn't aware that he was whispering his name, rank, and serial number to himself as he moved to the back of the plane. He couldn't control his breathing as the commandoes each jumped.

Soon it was just Steve and Bucky. Bucky stepped to the edge. Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. "You gotta jump," Steve shouted over the engines and the wind. "Now." 

Bucky nodded, shaking. He closed his eyes and stepped out.

As soon as he jumped, the pain hit him. He fought against it, but it wracked his whole body. He was going to crash into the ground if he didn't pull the cord soon. His vision was tinged with darkness around the edges as he flailed, trying to find the cord. Something hit him from behind just as he blacked out.

when he became aware of his surroundings this time, he was propped up against a tree, Steve kneeling next to him. "What the hell happened, Bucky? You would have died if I hadn't caught you. I thought..." He trailed off.

Bucky took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry... I don't know. I blacked out. Probably just hyperventilated a little." Well, it was close enough to the truth. Don't much care for planes."

"Yeah sure. I can tell when you're lying to me."

Bucky tensed, ready for another fight, but Steve let it go at that and Bucky relaxed. "Promise. Look, we're not hurt. Come on. We need to get to the rendevous point." Bucky stood on shaky legs and checked that all of his supplies had made it. 

Steve stood up and nodded, not saying anything else to Bucky. He led the way, and Bucky trailed after him. He was glad Steve was leading, because it gave Bucky the chance to get control of his own emotions. He felt like he was losing himself to this war. Everything that made him who he was was getting taken away, leaving him helpless and alone. A part of him knew he would never be able to go back to the way things were. But that just made him want to hold on even more.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky had a few more blackouts, but thankfully they never happened in front of the others. The one that scared him the most was stepping into a lab by himself. There were people working there and they were all running around in a panic with the exception of a couple soldiers. Bucky had blacked out from the familiar pain and when he came back to himself, everyone was dead around him. He had fled from that room and never mentioned it. From that day, he hung back and stayed with someone at all time. He thought it might be safer that way.

Bucky lost track of the days, but this time was different than his time in the trenches. Then, he'd been defending only. Here and now, he was going on the offensive. He was doing something. He was making a difference. He looked down the sight of his rifle, thinking about that, when he saw a guy Steve had missed coming up behind his friend. Without a thought, Bucky fired. Steve whirled, then looked up at Bucky. He saluted, a look of surprise and confusion on his face. Bucky flushed at that look. Steve must really have thought he couldn't trust his friend to watch his back. 

Bucky bit back the anger and held his ground. He took out a couple more soldiers, then got up and walked down to where Steve was finishing up.

"I didn't know you were that good of a shot," Steve commented casually.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." The retort came out a little sharper than Bucky had intended.

"You're right. And I'm sorry. I should never have doubted you. You've always protected me." Steve smiled.

"Damn straight. I told you before, you can always count on me."

"To the end of the line?"

Bucky gave him a small smile. "And beyond."

"You know, whatever you're going through, I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk."

Bucky nodded. "Maybe when we finish up here, we can go get drinks and have a long talk."

"I'd like that."

Steve turned away and Bucky watched him go. Maybe he wasn't useless to Steve after all.


End file.
